


Sing a Little Song of Me

by WinchesterTommo



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean Sings, Domestic Castiel/Dean Winchester, Fluff, M/M, also angst, human cas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-21
Updated: 2015-11-21
Packaged: 2018-05-02 15:11:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5252912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WinchesterTommo/pseuds/WinchesterTommo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I love to imagine Dean singing and so this happened</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sing a Little Song of Me

Dean Winchester does not sing. He screeches off key as he drives the impala and listens to music. He hums off beat when he’s trying to annoy Sam. He drunkenly slurs karaoke. He does everything in his power to show that he’s a shitty singer, but in reality he’s actually quite good. He’s never really been sure why he hides his talent, but he does. He tucks it away in the back of his mind in the folder with the rest of the things he reserves for himself. So even though he can sing, he never does. Well, he almost never sings.

It was a quiet evening in the bunker the first time it happened. Sam had gone out and Dean was holed up in the library doing research. His foot was tapping against the floor in beat with the music ringing out in his mind. The song had been stuck in his head all day, and after the hours of research and cups of bourbon, he found himself humming the tune. The sound was soft and sweet, radiating from Dean as if it were natural to him. Before he knew it, he was full on singing, really getting into it. Swaying a little, and closing his eyes when he hit the impressive notes. He was half way through the song when he realized Castiel had joined him. He jumped at the sight of the angel, bumping his elbow on the table.

“Shit,” Dean wasn’t sure if he was cursing about the pain in his elbow or the singing, but both were highly likely. 

“Why did you stop?” Cas hesitated through the question, as if he wasn’t sure if he should ask it or not. 

“I, uh, just don’t usually sing around other people,” Dean fumbled for the words, a blush creeping in on his cheeks.

“But you’re very good,” the words were barely a whisper, but Dean heard them loudly enough. Cas said it like a promise of keeping this secret he’d stumbled upon, and Dean shrugged. 

“I guess,” Dean mumbled.

“Will you keep going?” Cas’s hopeful voice was enough to make Dean forget why he had been reluctant to sing in the first place.

“Yeah, alright,” Dean nodded slightly before shyly beginning to sing again. At first the sound was small and uncertain, but as the song progressed, Dean opened up. He let Cas see a part of him he didn’t often show, and it felt strangely comfortable. As if it just fit. 

The next time it happened was years later. Dean and Cas had both retired from the supernatural industry, taking up domestic lives. They’d been together for a while when Cas permanently fell. At first, Dean felt horrible, constantly apologizing for what he’d caused. But Cas reassured him. He made sure Dean knew that he wanted a life with him. He told Dean that he’d fall a thousand times if it meant they could be together, and eventually Dean believed him. But that didn’t stop the nightmares. They started as bearable nuisances for Cas, but grew into insomnia. Every time Cas lulled himself into a sleep, he was met with horrid images of the things he’d done, the people he’d hurt. He would wake up crying and screaming, losing all sense of reality in the nightmares. Dean would wrap his arm around him and pull him close. He’d sing to him to calm him down. He’d sing the shitty indie songs Cas had grown to love. The soft sound of Dean’s voice would always work on Cas. He would curl up as close to dean as possible and let the soothing sound wash over him until he was in an undisturbed sleep. It became a ritual as Cas’s nightmares slowly subsided throughout the years. 

After that Dean only sang on special occasions. On birthdays or anniversaries when the two would sway together to the sound of Dean’s voice. On days when Dean was just in a really good mood, and he’d walk through the door and begin to sing his heart out, When they fought and Cas would try to go to bed angry, so Dean would slip under the covers with Cas and sing to him. Singing meant something to the two, something that no one else understood. But it didn’t take long before his singing became regular again. Before someone else was able to hear his voice. They’d decided to name her Mary, nothing else seemed to fit. The adoption process was hard and took a long time, but when they held their baby girl in their arms for the first time, it was clear that it was worth the wait. On the nights she was restless, Dean would resist any attempts Cas made to get out of bed and instead go to her himself. He’d pick her up and rock her in his arms as he sang to her. He sang her all kinds of classic, cheesy lullabies to her until she would fall asleep. Most nights when he finished he found Cas standing in the doorway, a groggy smile on his face. Dean would grab his hand and drag him back to bed, and Cas would pepper him with soft kisses and whispered promises of love. 

As Mary grew up, Dean continued to sing with her. Eventually, she began to sing back. Her voice was just as beautiful as Dean’s, and Cas would smile as the two sang together. They would rock out to Disney songs when she was little and Christmas songs in the winter. They would sing the classics as she got older and acquired Dean’s taste in music. Cas would pretend to hate it, but they all knew he adored it when the two sang. They never stopped singing. Even when she got to be older and moved out on her own, they would get together and listen to music and she’d complain to Dean all about her college roommates until they were singing to the songs together. They continued to sing after she brought home her first boyfriend. After her first girlfriend. After the many to come. They sang crappy breakup songs until Mary found the one. Someone who made her feel the way Cas made Dean feel. 

Dean publicly sang for the first time at her wedding. He sang as the happy couple shared their first dance. Cas cried like a baby, and Dean teased him, but after everyone left, Dean cried, too. He hugged his baby girl and told her stories about the times he used to sing her to sleep. Dean and Cas sent her away to her honeymoon with a kiss on her cheek and just a little bit of crying. 

Two years later Dean found a new reason to sing. He sang every day as he sat in the hospital chair next to where Cas laid. They caught the cancer when it was already too late, it would take a miracle to save Cas. Still, Dean didn’t give up hope. Every day he’d sing Cas his favorite songs and pray for him to get better. In the end, hope and prayer wasn’t enough. It never had been for the two. Dean sang at his funeral.   
Dean never made it to his old age. Three months after Cas died, he stuck a gun in his mouth and pulled the trigger. He left the car to Mary. She’d lost both her dads in a span of three months. She sang at his funeral. She sang when she released Cas and Dean’s ashes together at their favorite place: the fishing spot Dean had once dreamed of. It was the last time she sang. No lullabies, no sweet singing. It just didn’t seem right to her, and it never would. What singing meant to her, what it had meant to Dean, it was dead, and may it rest in peace.


End file.
